Gaston's quick eye found the man.

"Once," he answered instantly, "one honourable gentleman asked that of
another in King Charles's Parliament, and the reply then is mine now--
'You, sir!'"

"How?" returned the puzzled member.

Gaston smiled:

"The nakedness of the honourable gentleman's mind!"

The game was in his hands. Lord Faramond twisted a shoulder with
satisfaction, tossed a whimsical look down the line of the Treasury
Bench, and from that Bench came unusual applause.

"Where the devil did he get it?" queried a Minister.

"Out on the buffalo-trail," replied Lord Faramond. "Good fellow!"

In the Ladies Gallery, Delia clasped her mother's hand with delight; in
the Strangers Gallery, a man said softly, "Not so bad, Cadet."

Alice Wingfield's face had a light of aching pleasure. "Gaston, Gaston!"
she said, in a whisper heard only by the woman sitting next to her, who
though a stranger gave a murmur of sympathy.

Gaston made his last effort in a comparison of the state of the English
people now and before she became Cromwell's Commonwealth, and then